


Fortunate Hapenstance

by Cyraina_de_Bergerac



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, First Meetings, Force Choking, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 13:50:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11060322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyraina_de_Bergerac/pseuds/Cyraina_de_Bergerac
Summary: An Imperial Lieutenant expects death as he reports to the Dark Lord. Instead, he finds a fresh life as a fateful friendship is born. A possible first meeting for Pellaeon and Thrawn within the Rebels universe. Two-shot.





	1. The First Encounter

Within the dark hallway, outside the debriefing room door, an Imperial officer paused. He knew where his duty lay, but also knew the previous fate of others who had come down this path. But in the end, the weary one resigned himself to fate, pressed open the door, and walked in. His was the one most directly at fault for this disaster as a high rank officer, he was passing his prime, a ripe age to be thrown to the slaughter, and besides, he had drawn the shortest straw. The door clanged behind and the man walked towards the table, glimpsing briefly the questioning glare of the Grand Moff, the curious red gaze of the alien Grand Admiral, until finally resting his sights on the deathly mask of Lord Vader himself. "What report have you, Lieutenant?" The Dark Lord growled.  
The room's silence echoed like that of a hospital as the Lieutenant gulped, "My Lord, the rebels managed to escape. We had them surrounded but they broke free of our tractor beams through a procedure known by my operators as Gambol...." Then his hands went up in an instinctual reaction to protect his throat, but the chocking hand was ten feet away, black gloved and slowly squeezing tighter.  
"Such utter incompetence." Coldly stated the Sith, "To allow such a ordinary freight vessel to slip from your grasp. Have Imperial standards really fallen so low?"  
"Would you really punish an experienced officer without hearing a full report? Perhaps you would find that the fault lay with a truly incompetent one that has managed to slip through the cracks by making sure his superior officers always accepted his blame." The squeeze stopped but remained steady. Dark spots swirled in the officer's vision. The calm, modulated voice continued, "We can't afford to waste good high-ranking officers, Lord Vader. If the fault really lies with him, then he's yours. But humor me, please, for now. I would like a chance to investigate before a death sentence is called upon."  
"As you wish," decreed the dread lord. Then the lieutenant collapsed to the ground and knew no more.


	2. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pellaeon comes to and receives a surprising offer.

It was the pounding within his head that first woke him, rhythmic beatings of miners against his skull. He groaned with the pain, but found that to be a mistake as his throat exploded into flames and a breathless gasp escaped instead.  
"Good. You're awake." A familiar voice said. The lieutenant frowned, trying give a face to the voice. Failing that, his eyes blinked open against the light, blurring his image until they opened unto the focused vision of the blue-skinned Grand Admiral, his red eyes observing. The human then scrambled to stand up, ignoring the sudden light-headedness and the fresh agonies, but a hand rested on his shoulder and Admiral Thrawn's lips faintly smiled in amusement. "At ease Lieutenant. A medbay patient is hardly expected to stand on ceremony." The Grand Admiral then offered a glass of cool water in his other hand and the officer nodded gratefully before quenching the fires within.  
"The doctor said that there will be no lingering physical damage," Thrawn continued. "That's something at any rate. As long as you avoid drawing any more rigged straws, you should be fine."  
"R-rigged, sir?," then a hacking cough burst from the lieutenant's mouth. The blue hands returned the glass to the sink and turned the tap.  
"Yes, rigged," the water cascaded down before the tap squeezed back into place. The Admiral walked back with the glass, "On ships controlled the way Vader controls them, some officers become unscrupulous and seek to utilize their leader's rage for a quick promotion, an unfortunate occurrence." Thrawn handed the glass back to the patient, who nursed it down while looking up questionably.   
"Their game then is to stay under the radar," continued the Admiral. "And convince someone, preferably a superior, to take the fall whenever Vader should be displeased. If the superior should take the fall, the officer would have a high chance to move up in rank." The red eyes perused the figure before him. "In this case, rigging straws was just one tool. Others were reminders of the officer's responsibility to their subordinates or of their age in relation to younger officers who had longer to live, fostering loyal superiors who would be willing to give their own life if that would save their subordinates from wrongful death. Officers already loyal to their men take very little work in this form of duplicity." The lieutenant glanced down, knowing what and who the Admiral meant and seeing how much he had been an ideal target. Thrawn paused and eyed the patient, his gaze seeming to peer into the other's innermost depths.   
"Fortunately for you," Thrawn said. "Vader has less patience with disloyalty than for those who fail. I arranged a medical team to pick you up while we investigated and to keep you out of his path if he wasn't satisfied by what we discovered on the bridge. Your little traitor was the only one seeking to pin you as responsible and kept doing so till the end."  
The human shivered at that last statement. He was glad he wasn't dead (at least he wasn't yet), but the lad had had his whole life ahead of him. Besides, any time a fellow enlisted was punished by death was a tragic occasion, even if slightly earned. He looked back up at the Admiral and asked, "W-Why--" before his body fell to a coughing fit again. Darn his throat hurt! His glass was grabbed, filled, and handed back to him.  
"Why save you?" the Admiral said. The lieutenant nodded, then took another sip from his glass. Thrawn grabbed a nearby data pad and scrolled through until he was able to pull up the records he wanted. "Lieutenant Gilad Pellaeon. Joined the Galactic Republic navy during the Clone Wars. Rose through the ranks, served with distinction, and was commended for your ability to act on your own, your courage, and your loyalty to your men and the service. When the Galactic Republic became the Galactic Empire, you stayed and continued to serve with distinction. You rose through the ranks until you came to your current position, in all likelihood on your way to further promotion elsewhere though opportunities have been stagnant as of now." Thrawn set the data pad back down. "Quite simply, you're too valuable to be thrown away, especially in one of the Dark Lord's temper tantrums. Unfortunately, the longer you're here, the more likely you'll come under his wrath again." Thrawn paused, making sure he had the lieutenant's attention. "However, I can offer you a chance off here. I need a new executive officer on my flagship, the Chimera. My previous officer was transferred onto Grand Moff Tarkin's flagship." He picked the data pad back up, opened up to where he wanted, then handed it to Pellaeon. "Here's the information what the position would require. If you accept the transfer, sign on the bottom line and I'll take care of the rest of the paperwork."  
Lt. Pellaeon grasped the pad and read through the document. He had been wanting a transfer since the first week, but had always been blocked before. Now, he had a way out and for a higher rank than his current one. This was too good an opportunity to pass up, no matter what motivations the Grand Admiral had for offering the position. If things didn't work, he would either request transfer or be dead. It seemed like he had more chance of life there than under Vader's command. Pellaeon signed his name then handed the data pad back to Thrawn. Thrawn softly smiled then extended his hand. "Welcome to the Chimera then, Executive Officer Pellaeon," Thrawn said as the two shook hands on it. "My first order to you is to rest up and recover while I finalize the transfer." With that, the Grand Admiral turned around and exited the medbay. Pellaeon watched as he left then surrendered back to slumber, more at peace with what was to come than ever before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that this two-shot is complete. If you guys would like to see more stories within this au, please comment. I would kind of like to do some one-shots within this verse though in a new collection. The comments can include scenes you would like me to do.
> 
> Thank you for your views, favorites, and comments.
> 
> (I do not own the above characters, who are all the property of Disney now. I would like to thank and highly credit Timothy Zahn for the creation of the classic characters, Grand Admiral Thrawn and Gilad Pellaeon.)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, welcome to my first fan fic. While Thrawn's entrance into Star Wars Rebels is indeed thrilling, the icing on the cake would be the entrance of his Watson, Gilad Pellaeon, to work alongside him. If such a thing were to occur, this is one way I could see it coming about. Using Darth Vader since he has been seen before in Star Wars Rebels and Thrawn keeps mentioning how Pellaeon has a hard time not thinking of Darth Vader during certain instances of the Thrawn Trilogy, meaning that Pellaeon had probably served under Vader at some point and witnessed Vader's wrath for himself. The rank I just choose something that seemed reasonable. Reviews are welcome.


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